


I look inside myself (and see my heart is black)

by usedupshiver



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Tony Stark, Loki's Black Suit, Lonely Tony Stark, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: Tony gleefully put Ross on indefinite hold, and didn’t think much more than'Rogers you crafty asshole'. Then the new emptiness of the compound closed around him, and it was all just noise in the far background, nothing to do with his life.The Accords had been for the Avengers, and they were gone.What did they have left to threaten him with?He’d forgotten the fact that the Raft had held more than former Avengers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I got a prompt on tumblr to write about Loki's fabulous black suit from Thor 3. It was meant to be porn. It grew Tony feels instead...

Tony tried to keep his steps light and his face looking unbothered when he followed Ross into the Raft, even though his face felt like a slab of raw meat, his left arm was aching sharply in its sling, and his gut was in twisted-up knots. And he thought he managed to pull off the act – until he glanced over a guard’s shoulder at the monitors he was watching. Then his steps slowed, and he knew his face was showing far too much of what he was feeling.

Wanda, chained up in her cell, pale and glaring at the camera. Stuck right where he’d tried so hard to keep her out of, even when it had earned him nothing but hate.

And Loki. Shackled up in even heavier suppression gear than Wanda, but standing tall in the middle of his little cell. Also looking at the camera, glancing up through his lashes, looking almost coquettish, a faint smile on his thin lips. Four years he’d been there, since SHIELD decided to declare finders keepers after the Battle of New York, and looking as sassy as ever. The bastard.

Swallowing through a tight throat, Tony made himself look straight ahead and focus on the prisoners he actually had a chance of meeting.

* * *

Tony jetted off to Sibiria, watched everything he’d ever tried to believe in fall apart, and barely made it out alive.

He wasn’t sure he was pleased about that last bit.

* * *

_”Priority call from Secretary Ross. There’s been a breach at the Raft prison.”_

Tony gleefully put Ross on indefinite hold, and didn’t think much more than _'Rogers you crafty asshole'_. Then the new emptiness of the compound closed around him, and it was all just noise in the far background, nothing to do with his life.

The Accords had been for the Avengers, and they were gone.

What did they have left to threaten him with?

He’d forgotten the fact that the Raft had held more than former Avengers.

* * *

At first, Tony thought something was going wrong with his eyesight.

Which was terrifying all on its own, thank you very much, because if his eyes went? Well, he didn’t have much of a back-up plan for his life then. So yeah, when he started seeing a black shadow along the edge of his peripheral vision, winking in and out of existense, he assumed it was his eyes.

Or his brain. But that was even worse, so he tried not to consider that possibility.

Either way, he was kind of freaking out after a couple of weeks.

But then, things changed. The shadow wasn’t just that anymore. It was growing solid, taking on a more distinct shape, and gradually sneaking closer. No longer flitting by at the edge of Tony’s vision, but letting him almost get an actual glimpse of it, before it was just as gone.

It was a man. Or something close enough to pass as one. Humanoid, tall, slim, and solid black from head to heel. Tony couldn’t make out any details. Not even a face.

The man in black showed up everywhere. Standing calmly between cars in the middle of Manhattan traffic, immovable in the middle of scurrying people on the SI office floors of the Tower, or looming in the doorway to the workshop at the compound. (Tony couldn’t use the one at the Tower anymore, it reminded him too much of JARVIS dying (twice) and he couldn’t go in there without having a breakdown. But going out to the compound wasn’t too bad – there was pretty much no tech to deal with these days. Only new iterations of Rhodey’s leg braces.)

The black figure had never showed up in the penthouse, though. Not until tonight, when Tony had turned around to find the man standing in a corner by the bar, directly in front of Tony for the first time ever. And even if most of the room was between them, suddenly Tony had to wonder how he hadn’t recognized the man in black for who he was long before now.

Loki was black on black on black, from the polished leather of his shoes, to the long tangles of his hair. He was all neat, sharp, perfectly tailored lines, flattering his tall, lean frame, and marking the width of his shoulders. Only the different textures of fabrics made the slight shine of his tie stand out against the more matte surface of his shirt, his vest almost blending into his jacket and pants, neat creases running down the fronts of his thighs.

This was where Tony should say something witty, probably, but as he stood there eyeing his uninvited visitor, all that fell from his lips was a ”Huh”, that was mostly a weary sigh.

Against all the layers of black, Loki’s face and long, slender hands stood out starkly, almost glowing white, and every movement seemed clearer because of it. The faint, upward quirk of his mouth, the amused arch of an eyebrow, his hands turning around to show if possible even whiter palms, elegant fingers spreading slowly.

”I must say I was expecting more of a… reaction”, he said, voice the same smooth velvet Tony remembered from their last meeting in this room.

Which was fair, obviously. Tony should have realized that by springing Wanda from the Raft, Rogers and his merry men would have left an opening wide enough for Loki to slip out as well. He hadn’t had the energy to consider it, or worry about it, but some sign of being upset would probably have been appropriate about now.

”You expected your sunken prison to hold me.” Loki’s weight shifted forward into a long, slow, graceful step closer. Then another. ”You should have known better.”

Tony didn’t move, just let his head tip back slightly as Loki came close enough to almost loom over him, so he could keep his eyes on that pale face. This was all very familiar, even if Loki at least looked empty-handed this time around.

”I saw you”, Loki carried on. ”Visiting. Watching. Those shackles kept my body fettered, but I wasn’t as imprisoned as they thought.”

And Tony found he didn’t have any trouble believeing that, remembering Loki’s almost coy smile up at the camera.

”How much time have you spent looking for me, Stark?” The smirk on Loki’s face curled higher, forming smooth lines in the skin of his cheek. ”What tricks have you got waiting up your sleeves this time, I wonder?”

For a drawn-out moment they stared at each other, Loki leaning forward just a bit, close enough that Tony could feel his breaths touch his own lips. When Loki’s hand slipped up between them, fingers wrapping almost all the way around Tony’s throat, he wasn’t surprised. That was also sort of familiar, even if the touch was slow and lingering this time, not a rushed, furious clamping-down of a hand around him. But then, Loki had time tonight. There was no battle raging outside, no-one coming, it was just the two of them, and Loki had all the time he could possibly need.

It was all so very much the same as the first time around, except for one thing – Tony wasn’t the same. The Tony who had faced off against Loki last time had been full of fight, all this Tony could think as he felt a cool thumb stroke over his jugular was _'this is fine'_.

Everything he’d been fighting for then was gone, and what little was left? Well, he’d made sure it would do fine without him. Pepper was better off, and she would handle SI beautifully. Rhodey was at least able to get around on his own now. JARVIS was gone, but he’d made sure to put down in his will that no-one was allowed to rip little FRIDAY out of the compound. She’d be safe, and she’d keep his other kids safe, make sure DUM-E and U didn’t get into trouble.

He’d even set things up so that Parker and his aunt would get taken care of once he was gone.

So this was fine. Really.

”What does this mighty hero of Earth have in store for me this time?”

Oh, yeah, right – Loki was still talking. But there was another kind of tension in his black brows this time, a line of displeasure deepening above his long, narrow nose.

”I’ve got nothing”, Tony admitted, feeling the words vibrate tonelessly against Loki’s palm, the grip not even tight enough to distort his speech.

Silence coiled around them, tense enough to be palpable as they stared at each other. But then, Loki’s face suddenly shifted into a smooth, wide grin, too many teeth and full of vicious mirth. His hand left Tony’s throat and instead slipped up the side of his neck, into the hair at the nape, combing into the messy curls, cupping the back of his head. Loki hummed softly, almost a pleased purr, and leaned so close that the sides of their noses were touching, satiny lips brushing the corner of Tony’s mouth when Loki spoke up.

”I know”, he murmured. ”I’ve seen it. Your halls are empty, and so is your heart.”

Stiff under the intrusion in his personal space and the mock-gentle words hitting too close to home, Tony was barely breathing. Against one of his hands, hanging useless by his hip, he felt the fine, supple, warm wool of Loki’s suit pants and had the weird urge to reach out and catch it between his fingers.

He didn’t.

”But you know what’s coming”, Loki carried on, moving even closer so that they were cheek to cheek, words whispered into Tony’s ear as their chests touched. ”You’ve glimpsed it, out beyond.”

Even now, numb down to the core of him, the reminder of the void made Tony shudder. And before he knew it his hand had moved up, fisting into the black fabric of the suit jacket, right by the dip of Loki’s slim waist. Not shoving, not pulling, just clinging on.

Loki actually _hushed him_. ”I know”, he soothed. ”I know what is coming, and how ill equipped this vulnerable little realm is to protect itself. And I know you have tried to remedy that.”

That startled a choked snort of laughter out of Tony, and he actually tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against Loki’s steady shoulder as he chuckled, the sound raspy and disused. ”Yeah”, he muttered, ”because that went _so fucking well_ , right?”

Loki’s hand on the back of his head had just followed the movement, and was now stroking his hair. Almost petting him.

That probably shouldn’t have been comforting, but Tony was touch-starved, and tired, and ready to give up. So it was.

”Well, no”, Loki agreed. ”But this time, I’m going to help you.”

Tony couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had offered to help him. With anything at all. All he could remember was the questions and the objections, the refusals and the accusations.

People he’d thought he could trust, lying, or leaving, or both.

Maybe someone he didn’t think he could trust was better. At least getting stabbed in the back by Loki would only hurt because there was a dagger between his ribs, not because his heart was breaking.

”Fine.” He gave a deep sigh, filled with the rich cloth scent off Loki’s shoulder. ”When do we start?”


End file.
